My favorite DIY project yet

It’s been an interesting journey since my Time to Hope post. Some things we expected and others we didn’t; Cancer treatment is never easy, but last Monday it came to an end. I know this isn’t a typical DIY post, but I do promise to discuss the poster which is a bit of a DIY tie-in. 😉

Surprisingly, the end came with mixed emotions. Maybe because I didn’t allow myself to feel some of it during the process. My therapist told me to take time to write every day so my raft didn’t fly out of the water as I was trying to push it down. But I couldn’t, and I knew that. It was part of my survival to remain objective and work through the facts and tasks of each day while in the “need to be strong” mode.

So now I’m processing some of those feelings. They call radiation after chemo “mop up,” and that’s what I feel like I’m doing right now.

Relief is at the base. It feels much lighter. And there is a lot of happiness, obviously. It feels too good to be true. Then there is love, gratefulness, and thankfulness. God is good and brought a lot of family, friends and strangers into our lives to support us. It’s a special bound, and we will forever cherish all who helped us.

I’ve also felt some exhaustion, like after finishing a year of college. And related, some uncomfortable feelings of transition. People often told us that the cancer doesn’t define us, but let’s be realistic, it defines you during treatment. So now we go back to our “normal” life, but it won’t ever be the same. The experience has changed our perspective, lifestyle, diet, and even some of our relationships, so now we will will navigate into our new life, which, for the most part, should be better.

I’m sure the kids will help us figure that out quickly. At times it’s felt more stressful with them, and I often said things like, “I wish I could just stay at the hospital and not have to worry about the kids or childcare” or if I just needed time to think without someone needing snack or a diaper change. I’m not proud of the moments I was short when I was on the verge of cracking, but really the kids have been a huge blessing keeping us busy or making us smile and keeping our perspective in check. Unknowingly, they gave us more hope and reminded us to still be grateful.

John’s radiologist said it’s common for people to experience some depression following treatment because you’re no longer “fighting” the cancer as your sole purpose. It’s so easy for that fear to sneak in. Last October we had just come out of a difficult summer of some health issues and I remember the renewed hope and strength we felt when it was over. We were so excited about our new baby and the hope of 2014, and then we got the bomb of his diagnosis on Jan. 6.

The enemy wants me to dwell on that, that something more is coming. It’s that fear of being out of control that creeps and haunts us.

In the middle of some of that, this showed up at the top of my FB feed from Ann Voskamp.

A simple message, but sometimes easier said than done. The “today” part jumped out at me. During John’s treatment, I often got through the day thinking about how tomorrow was a new day, but maybe my focus should be on today, and it should have been all along. Fear and worry were at the core, and those are the first things to knock out on today’s to-do list.

But what does that and trusting God really look like in our world, where planes disappear or are shot down? Where children are beheaded because of religion. Where hilariously genius Robin Williams battles depression and turns to suicide. Where a three year old girl needs daily anesthesia and radiation after being diagnosed with cancer at six months old and her mother is crying in the corner.

I can’t begin to wrap my head around any of it and you know there are a million stories to match. Nothing will ever be perfect here so how can we not fear and worry?

There is no easy answer, but I was encouraged to see that even Billy Graham has struggled with the same thing.

I had a poster in my classroom that often sparked discussion: Embrace Confusion. Not many of my students wanted to be confused, let alone embracing it. And that’s where I’m at after all this, but they say confusion is often where true learning occurs. And maybe our faith wouldn’t mean as much if we knew all the answers. Maybe that brings us closer to relying on God and His plan to work and grow us through the struggles.

The last couple weeks our pastor has been discussing Romans 8:26-28. In a nutshell, the Spirit hears our groans, God intercedes when it’s according to His will, and He works for good in everything.

I often felt the most peace when I simply cried and “groaned” during this process. Amy Grant says it’s “Better Than A Hallelujah,” and I think she’s right.

The second part of the passage hits home after this journey. God can’t make it all good, all the time, because, let’s be real, we wouldn’t appreciate it, and then we would just be puppets. But He is going to be there, even in the most awful situations, whether it’s showing us some “good” or drawing us closer to Him.

And for us, a lot of the “good” came from those who journeyed with us. There were so many “God moments” where someone would text to ask how I was doing or tell me that they were praying or send a verse that I needed to hear right at that moment. The most memorable time was when we had to go to UPenn on less than 24 hour’s notice. Of course there were little things like how I was behind on laundry; I wasn’t sure how we could get everything ready for our five month old, let alone the five of us.

But God sent a village. Different people agreed to watch the kids or just showed up to help so I could pack, and, amazingly, I had coverage for 10 hours that day. Even my son’s teacher came over with dinner and stayed to help with the kids. I don’t like to accept help, but I said an uncomfortable “yes” to every offer, and I watched how God made everything possible. And then my cousin just happened to be in between jobs that week so she watched the kids. We were in a tailspin with John’s health, but God wrapped His arms around us through the support of others so we could hang on.

Another time, when I felt totally beat down, I got a card from 12 Ordinary Women telling me that I was heard, which was my exact cry the previous day. They also sent a restaurant gift card and a handmade necklace with bamboo and garnet symbolism that I could wear as a reminder. Total strangers helping us along.

Those are only a couple examples…God provided a lot of good for us.

As promised, the DIY project…

I made this poster for John’s last day of treatment. I included some notes from our family and close friends so he could feel like everyone was there celebrating with him. All the support has felt much like a rainbow at the end of the storm, and it also reminds me of God’s promise, so that’s way I chose it as the message medium.

I asked everyone to give me 10-15 words and then worked hard to get it all in. It’s not perfect, but that represents life, right? 😉

So, today, I choose to celebrate all the good God has done throughout this journey. And I pray that I will trust, without fear, that He will continue to do so and help get us through whatever comes our way.